


23 Reasons Why

by sorta_sirius_black



Series: Frat Boys [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BagginShield fluff, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Modern AU, a bit of angst, it's fluff, just fluff, then it's smut, well until the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6026647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorta_sirius_black/pseuds/sorta_sirius_black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And I see the way that you look at me sometimes. It's the way that Kili looks at Tauriel, and he's crazy about her. And it's how my mother used to look at my father. It's that way that you look when you're in love with someone. Dreamy, and like you're not seeing the flaws. Like all you see is the good in a person. That's the way that you look at me."</p>
<p>"You're drunk, Thorin." Was all that Bilbo could reply. </p>
<p>"And you're in love with me." He slurred as he collapsed on the bed.</p>
<p>"Okay." </p>
<p>"I love you too."</p>
            </blockquote>





	23 Reasons Why

**Author's Note:**

> 23 Reasons Why Playlist:
> 
> I Won't Let You Go - Snow Patrol  
> 7 Things - Miley Cyrus  
> Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding  
> Always - Panic! At The Disco  
> I'm Yours - Jason Mraz  
> Burning Love - Elvis Presley  
> If I'm James Dean, You're Audrey Hepburn (acoustic) - Sleeping with Sirens  
> Turning Page - Sleeping at Last
> 
>  
> 
> Fluffy first time Bagginshield. Just because I felt like it.

_"Bilbo..." He whispered throatily, voice shaky and breathy and weak._

_"Don't move. Don't move, lie still..." Bilbo begged, knowing how this was going to end but trying nonetheless._

_Bilbo pulled his armor back, studying him over, trying to find the wound. His eyes wandered over him, the bare skin that had once looked impenetrable, bulletproof even, now broken and bloody, bringing him to an end with nothing more than a blade. A goddamned blade. Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo could see the Orc that had killed him lying dead, pinned to the ice with that sword that Thorin had loved so much, cherished so deeply. He could see the blood on the blade, red, shining like rubies in the cold winter sun, standing out against the cold blue ice. He felt a gag rising in his throat, knowing that he couldn't take this. This was his friend. This was... This... Thorin... His... His friend... His... Something... Something more... He gagged in disgust and pain and terror, knowing that he couldn't save the man in front of him, the man that he... He..._

_"I'm glad you are here..." Thorin whispered._

_"Shh, shh." Bilbo shushed, trying to stop the bleeding._

_"I wish to part from you in friendship." He whispered._

_"No. You're not going anywhere. You're going to live."_

_"I would take back my words and deeds back at the gate. You did only what a true friend would do. Forgive me... I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry... That I have led you into such peril..." He apologized sorrowfully, every inch of him shaking, trembling..._

_"No... I am glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin... Each and every one of them." He said, meaning every word._

_His hands wrapped tighter around him, clutching at his armor, clutching at him, desperate to hold him closer, desperate to bring him back from the brink of death. He was shaking in the cold, but he hardly cared. The only thing on his mind was Thorin Oakenshield. He bit back his own tears, knowing that he had to stay strong for the man he had deemed impenetrable, the man that he had always seen as strong, unafraid of anything that life hurled at him. Thorin was strong, always had been, stronger than anyone or anything that he had ever met. He was a man made of steel and iron rather than flesh and blood. But right then, he was as weak and fragile as the snow and ice beneath their feet, ready to shatter, ready to break... And once he was broken..._

_"It is far more than any Baggins deserves." He assured with a shaky voice._

_Thorin gave a small smile, entire body at peace, like this was all that he needed. Forgiveness. Assurance. Bilbo's hands wrapped around his, the warmth leaving his body as his soul followed suit. Bilbo knew that there wasn't any saving him now. The wound was going to kill him. This orc was going to be Oakenshield's last stand and there was nothing that he could do to stop it or save him. There was nothing that he could do to bring him back from the brink. All that he could do now was make sure that Thorin Oakenshield died with a smile on his face and a glimmer of hope in his eyes, a certain peace running through his veins. There was nothing more that Bilbo could do than that... And there was nothing more that Thorin could ask._

_"Farewell, master burglar... Go back to your books... And your armchair. Plant your trees. Watch them grow." He whispered, the life fleeing his body._

_Bilbo nodded, assuring him. Yes. Of course._

_"If more people valued home above gold... The world would be a merrier place."_

_His eyes drifted toward the sky, the blue and pink and yellow mingling together in a beautiful display. Bilbo watched as the rest of the life in his body drifted away, fleeing from him, leaving Bilbo with nothing but the hollow remains of his friend, his... His... His something. He wasn't quite sure. He felt something beyond friendship, something past friendship, with this man. He wasn't quite sure what it was. But as the last of him left his body, Bilbo knew that he couldn't let go. He couldn't let go of his friend. He couldn't let go of Thorin Oakenshield. Not yet._

_"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Thorin. Thorin, don't you dare. Thorin." He begged, his voice coming out like that of a child._

_He watched as the last of his life drained from his body, leaving him with nothing. Nothing but an empty shell, a hollow corpse. Thorin, Thorin, Thorin. His Thorin. He shifted around, putting his arms around him, trying his best to cradle his lifeless body, trying his best to hold him close, trying his best to bring him back. He wasn't ready to let go. After all of this together, he wasn't ready. He couldn't just let him go..._

_"Thorin, Thorin, hold on... Hold on... Please. The eagles... The eagles are here... Thorin... Thorin? The... The eagles..."_

_Out of instinct, out of a pain so unbearably real, he leaned down and pressed his lips against Thorin's. They were cold, lifeless, dead... But they were still his. They were cracked and bloody, but beneath the cuts and the bruises and the injuries, they were still soft and gentle, just as Bilbo had always imagined them. They were still his lips. It was still his body. It was still Thorin Oakenshield._

_And the tears started coming._

Bilbo woke slowly, the way that you wake up on a Sunday, when it's almost noon and you have nowhere else to be, despite the fact that it was a crisp Tuesday morning and he had classes in half an hour. It was a nice way to wake up. Sleepy, but not exhausted. Peaceful, but still conscious enough to know exactly where you had to be, yet still not being worried about it. He supposed he should be worried. He had an exam in one class later today, and still needed to finish last night's homework from another. But still, as he lay there, sprawled out and spread eagle, it felt like he had nowhere else in the world that he needed to be. Like he could just stay there, going back and forth between staring at the ceiling and the back of his eyelids, for the rest of the day, week, month, year, eternity... 

He'd had that dream again. The one with the hobbits and the dwarves and the intense homo-erotic tension between him and his roommate, Thorin. The one that always ended with Thorin dying in some battle... Now, Bilbo had imagined Thorin's death many times, usually at his own hand, but somehow, when he had this dream, sitting next to him every single goddamned time... Well... He didn't like to say how it made him feel. It was quite ridiculous, a dream that he never talked about, a dream that oftentimes left him waking up with a strange feeling in his chest. The feeling of... Something being... Wrong. Just... Wrong. Like there was a part of him that wanted to return to that world, where he could maybe be something more than a nerdy college student dorming with the big man on campus. But the other half of him felt like crying and running into the other room, just to make sure that he was still asleep on the couch. 

But this morning, neither of those scenarios were true. He didn't feel like running to make sure that he was alright because somehow, this morning, he knew that he was. There would've been something off if he had been somehow killed in battle this morning. But he hadn't. He was fine. Bilbo could sense it. He closed his eyes again, letting the peace of the morning wash over him. He knew that his alarm would be going off in a few minutes, but until then, he could sit there. Breathe. 

Breathing wasn't exactly something you got to do a lot in college. Of course, not literal breathing, though it sometimes felt, with his severe anxiety and such, that he couldn't breathe. It sometimes felt like he was suffocating under all of the stress and homework. But it was the metaphorical sigh of relief that he couldn't get enough of, the metaphorical sigh of relief that he never got to see or relish. He closed his eyes, the warm glow of the morning sun and the warmth of his bed. He hated waking up from that dream, so often waking up feeling raw and hurting and broken and on the verge of tears... But this time, it was different. The dream had ended differently, and while he wasn't quite sure whether he liked the ending or not, he didn't feel like screaming out in pain this time. He knew that Thorin wasn't dead, and maybe now there was something in him that wasn't there before. It felt hazy and strange and just a little bit terrifying, but maybe...

He shook his head and stood up. This was dumb. Thorin was straight as an arrow. Had to be, with all the girls that he brought home. He had his buddies that never seemed to leave, and his nephews that he had to babysit every few days, but aside from them, there were only ever girls over. He never brought boys over and had sex with them. It was always a girl, a new girl every few nights... He was straight. It didn't matter if maybe Bilbo was developing a small crush on him... It didn't matter if he was having the same fucking dream every night. Because Thorin was straight and there was nothing that Bilbo could do to change that. So instead, he just stood up, shook his head, and stepped into the shower, washing off the residue of bloody dreams from his body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Aye, Bilbo!" A gruff, familiar voice called. 

"What?" He replied from the kitchen, pulling out a beer and sitting it on the counter before opening up his textbook. 

"Can you get me a few beers?" He queried.

"How many?" Bilbo groaned, turning back to the fridge.

"Um... Eleven!" 

"Make it 12!" Fili cried out.

"13!" Kili followed.

"No, only 11! They're only 16, they don't get beers." Thorin shot down.

"Oh, come on." Fili whined.

"Wouldn't you rather us try it here than out in the real world?" Kili moaned.

"No, shut up."

Bilbo shook his head to himself as he pulled eleven bottles out of the fridge, trying his best to hold them all and not shatter them, though he was pretty sure that it wouldn't take so much as a gust of wind to knock him over. He held them tightly, carefully making his way into the living room, where 11 rowdy college students, an older man that Thorin was friends with that he had probably picked up off of the street, 2 teenage boys, an a redheaded teenage girl sat on the ratty old sectional that Bilbo had bought off of Craigslist. Thorin was still waiting to come into his inheritance on his 21st birthday, which was only about a month away, but until then, they had to do with the dirty old furniture. Bilbo would probably be dealing with it for long after next month, considering that the chances of Thorin moving out and moving on with his life once he came into that inheritance were pretty high. Part of him felt a pang of sadness at the thought of never seeing him again, though Bilbo could hardly say that he'd miss these Tuesday night house parties when he needed to study. 

He passed around the beer, some hoots and hollers and cheers exchanged as he handed them off, these frat boys being far too excited for one bottle of beer. Bilbo had held a steady job for the past few months, leaving him with enough money leftover to buy whatever he pleased, and while he would've much rather spent it on books or on tea, Thorin insisted on beer, and Bilbo usually relented, allowing him to buy whatever he wanted. It was a pesky thought in the back of his mind. If he made him happy, maybe there would be a chance for him... A chance for them. It was a stupid, childish idea, but whenever Thorin flashed those big blue eyes at him... He couldn't resist. Besides, Thorin always offered to pay him back once he came into this money that he was being promised. Whether that was a true vow or just an empty promise, Bilbo didn't really care. It made him happy, and it was a stupid thought, a stupid sentiment, but he wanted nothing more than to make this asshole happy. He almost hated himself for it, hating how much he cared about the man who would never, could never, like him back in that way. 

"Thank you." Thorin thanked, sounding sincere, perhaps more sincere than he should've been. He felt a skitter in his chest as Thorin's fingers rested over his just a moment longer than they should've, the warmth of his touch lingering just a tad longer than what it should've. A small, hardly-noticeable smile drew across his lips, a smile of gratitude and perhaps of something else. 

Bilbo's eyes wandered over him for just a moment. He had long hair that he kept tucked back into a bun or a ponytail most of the time, a few of his messy curls being streaked white, despite him only being 20. Genetic defect, he'd always claim. He had a beard that he kept cropped fairly short, though it was starting to grow out a bit. Bilbo would be having to help him trim it within the next few days, as he usually did, since Thorin's hands were big and meaty and just a little bit too much to work nimbly around the hairs. His eyes were big and blue and full of beauty beyond anything that he had ever seen before. He wore a white button-down that was suggestively opened up a few too many buttons, revealing his toned and hairy chest, one that Bilbo had been longing to touch since the first time that he had seen it. Jesus, he was beautiful. 

No.

He shoved the thoughts out of his mind. This man was the one man that he could never have. Even if he was gay, it wouldn't work out. Immediately moving in with your significant other? That was madness. You couldn't do that. It was destined to ruin things. Besides, Thorin was going to get his own apartment, a big apartment, and be on his merry way within the next few months. After that, the only time that he would see Thorin again would be in the hallways, maybe passing him by in the courtyard, maybe in between classes. He wouldn't get to see his beautiful Thorin again after that. Things couldn't work out between them. They just couldn't. So Bilbo did what he always did and shoved the thoughts out of his mind, reminding himself of all the reasons why it was a bad idea. 

Bilbo would've said something, but his vocal chords froze just as he opened his mouth, so he just gave a small smile in return before hurrying back to the kitchen. The brief eye-contact, the touch of his hand... It was stupid. It was so stupid. So fucking stupid. Painfully stupid. And yet, he pulled himself onto the stool with all of these thoughts running wild in his head and the slight tug of his arousal in his pants. This was stupid. This was so stupid. He couldn't do this. Thorin didn't like him, and he didn't mean anything by the slight touch, by the thanks. It was nothing more than a thanks... That was all that it was. A straight guy telling a gay guy thanks. Nothing more. But Jesus, it felt like more. Jesus, it could've been more. Maybe not a final kiss before death on the battlefield as eagles soared overhead. Maybe nothing so dramatic or beautiful. But maybe something. Maybe Bilbo could've said something witty that could've started a chain of events that led to bed, which led to pillow-talk, which led to dating, which led to something more. Maybe it could've led to something beautiful, but Bilbo let it get away because goddammit he just couldn't say the right thing at the right time.

Good. Fucking. God. This was... Embarrassing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're gay, aren't you?" He inquired tipsily. 

Everyone else had gone home, after Bilbo had called them a cab and ushered them out the door. Kili and Fili's mom had come to pick them up, considering that neither of the two sixteen-year-old's had their licenses yet. So now they were alone, Thorin drunk out of his mind, even though it was early Wednesday morning and they both had classes in about 9 hours. Bilbo hoisted Thorin up onto his shoulder, though he was much bigger than Bilbo could ever even hope to be. Thorin slurred out the question, and it made Bilbo's heart leap. No one ever really asked him that. He'd never had to answer that question before. But as he stood there in his own home, trying to get Thorin to bed, he felt his heart start to hammer. Was he really going to have to come out like this? At 2 in the morning with Thorin completely wasted?

"Why do you ask?" Bilbo eventually replied.

"You never have girls over." He slurred back.

"Too busy with school for a different one-night-stand every night."

"Well, you don't even look at them. I mean, your room has posters of... What, movies? Books? There aren't any girls in there."

"Yeah, and?"

"And I don't know. You just don't act... Like... You're straight." He muttered, burping between words. 

"No one acts straight or gay, Thorin. There's no such thing. We just act how we act and we like who we like. That's all. We are who we are. I mean, according to statistics, I bet at least one of your buddies is gay."

"No, not gay. But Kili's a trans guy. And Fili's bi. And Ori's pansexual. And Bombur is asexual."

"Oh. Wow. So I guess no one in your little squad is actually gay."

"No, I never said that."

"You just..."

Thorin stumbled a bit, causing Bilbo to stumble back, struggling to keep his balance. For a second there, he thought that maybe they'd end up on the floor, Thorin on top of his. And then maybe that fucking dream he kept having, the dream where maybe Thorin was just a tiny bit in love with him, would come true. Maybe they would be there in the floor, and instead of kissing him as he died, Bilbo would just kiss him. And it'd be beautiful and serene and just a little bit tipsy. The hot taste of cheap beer on his breath, the brush of his whiskers on his face, his fingers playing through his messy hair... Maybe they'd get one drunken kiss, and maybe it'd lead to another, and then maybe they'd just be able to live this fairy-tale life together, and Bilbo wouldn't have to worry about keeping his feelings in check. But Bilbo shoved it out of his mind as he regained his balance, reminding himself that this was not happening, reciting the list of why they wouldn't make a good couple back to himself in his head.

"Sorry." Thorin apologized with a belch.

Bilbo just grunted in reply.

"Well, are you going to answer my question?"

"What question?"

"Are you gay?"

"Is it of any importance to you, Thorin Oakenshield?"

"It could be, Bilbo Baggins. I'd like to know if my friend is gay."

"We're friends now?"

"Haven't we always been?"

"I don't know. I don't guess it seems very friendly when you get totally wasted then hold me down and start shoving gummy vitamins down my throat, screaming about how to just want me to be healthy."

"That seems very friendly to me."

"Well, what about the one time when you and your buddies strung my underwear up the flagpole and started saluting to it?"

"That was mostly their idea..."

"Look, you getting wasted and throwing me in the middle of it is hardly best friend material."

"Fine, then I'd like to know when my roommate is gay, okay?"

"Yeah, well, okay."

Thorin pulled away from him for a moment, leaning up against the wall. Bilbo didn't bother with questioning and just followed suit, standing across from him, their feet touching as they leaned back, staring at each other for a moment. Thorin stared up at the ceiling for a moment, closing his eyes, looking like he was trying to catch his breath, like maybe the walk from the living room, through the kitchen, and down the hallway had been too strenuous for him. Maybe he was just nauseous. Bilbo wasn't sure, and he wasn't sure that it mattered. They just stood there, Bilbo studying every inch of him over. The way that he stood, tall and strong but on the verge of collapsing, whether it be exhaustion or alcohol or both. The way that he looked when he was all disheveled. The way that his chest rose and fell with every breath... 

"So are you gay?" Thorin pushed again after a moment. 

"Why does it matter to you?" Bilbo nearly shouted, exasperated. 

"Because you're in love with me."

His head started spinning at that. He felt like he was about to vomit. Everything that he had done to suppress those thoughts, to keep suspicion away from him, to make it seem like he genuinely didn't care... It was all for nothing. All of that, all of the denial, all of the hurt, all of the lists... It was all for nothing because Jesus fuck Thorin Oakenshield knew. His hands began to shake and beads of sweat began to form at his hairline, his throat feeling like it was closing off... His vision began to blur and his heart began to pound and his brain began to swirl with all of these horrible thoughts, thoughts that he couldn't quite pick out over the overwhelming thought... _He. Knows._

"I'm not in love with you." He denied, but it came out like a squeak. 

"Yes you are."

"You need to go to bed." Bilbo muttered as he tugged him away from the wall, desperate to get away. 

"And I see the way that you look at me sometimes. It's the way that Kili looks at Tauriel, and he's crazy about her. And it's how my mother used to look at my father. It's that way that you look when you're in love with someone. Dreamy, and like you're not seeing the flaws. Like all you see is the good in a person. That's the way that you look at me."

His heart was hammering in his chest now. God, he knew. His body started to tremble and his knees went weak, though he didn't know whether to blame it on the nerves or on the weight of the man above him. His mouth went dry as they stepped into Thorin's room, the room that had posters of girls and football and all things masculine, the things that held no interest for Bilbo Baggins, the things that he had never really cared for as a kid. Yet another reason why being with Thorin Oakenshield was a terrible idea. They had nothing in common. Not really. Thorin was outgoing and masculine and adventurous. He loved the taste of adventure, was hooked on it. He'd disappear for days sometimes on spontaneous roadtrips, he'd constantly go out and party with his friends, with his boys. Bilbo cherished the calmer things in life, like reading by a fire, or watching the rain fall, or spending nights in. There was no way that they'd be compatible. Bilbo would never be able to keep up. 

"You're drunk, Thorin." Was all that Bilbo could reply. 

"And you're in love with me." He slurred as he collapsed on the bed.

"Okay." 

Bilbo pivoted on his heel, pushing back his curls as he swallowed his breath, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. Knowing him, he'd probably be in his room sobbing for the next hour before falling asleep to that god-awful dream again, only to awake with the pain of knowing that Thorin knew how in love he was, and not being able to say or do anything about it. This knowledge between the two of them, this one drunk conversation, was going to make the rest of their time together as roommates a living hell, and Bilbo knew it. There wasn't ever any going back from this. He closed his eyes and headed back for the open door before hearing a small voice through a yawn, a sentence hardly distinguishable. 

"I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn't have the dream that night.

Probably because he didn't go to sleep.

How could he? He stayed awake in bed all night, all of these insane thoughts and scenarios running through his head, until he almost convinced himself that none of it had been real, and that it had been some twisted fantasy conjured up by his broken imagination and intoxicating lust, intoxicating love, intoxicating desire for this man in whatever ways there were. Christ did he want Thorin Oakenshield... And there was at least apart of Thorin that wanted him back. But was it a part that he was willing to let show in the light of day, or would it forever be confined to drunken mutterings at 2 in the morning? Would that be the only way to break through to Thorin? Would Bilbo really have to wait until two in the morning after a long night of slamming down beer after beer to hear those four goddamn beautiful words again? 

"I love you too."

Those words had rattled around in his head all day, leaving him desperately in need of him. Of his touch, of his embrace, of the sound of his voice. Just one more time. That was all that he needed. He just needed to hear those words one more time. But he feared that he may never hear them again, and that was perhaps the most terrifying part of all of this. Not the whirlwind romance that had happened over the course of one conversation, not the fact that the man he was crazy about now knew that he was gay. It was the fact that he might never hear those four words ever again. That was the most painful part, the most terrifying part, of all of this. 

He crawled out of bed, forcing himself to face the day. He had classes later, and he'd have to face Thorin eventually. He only lived with the man. As he pushed himself out of the door, his eyes caught a glimpse of him standing in the kitchen, head heavy and eyes drooping. He was hungover, and looked rather sick, really. Like he might vomit at any minute. Bilbo inhaled sharply and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the jeans that he'd not taken off the night before, trying to assess the situation, trying to decide how he might go about proceeding. How did he bring this up? Did he even bother to bring it up at all? Did Thorin even remember saying what he said? Would Bilbo ever be able to look at him the same way without thinking about what might be brewing just beneath the surface?

"Morning." Bilbo greeted tentatively, trying to test the waters.

"Morning." He grumbled.

"Sleep well?" Bilbo queried, voice a bit shaky, trying to figure out if he had any recollection of the night before.

"Mmm." He just grunted in response. 

This was going nowhere. Bilbo walked around the counter and toward the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water before reaching into the cabinet and grabbing the Ibuprofen, shaking out four into his hand and handing it over to Thorin. He took it, his hands not lingering a second longer over Bilbo's hands than what was necessary. No extra moment of touch, no brief second of eye contact made. It was just like nothing had happened. And perhaps nothing had happened. Perhaps this was just Bilbo's imagination getting away from him. Or maybe he was just desperate. Perhaps they were never going to be anything more than roommates. 

"Uh... I guess you... Don't... Uh... Remember much of last night then?" Bilbo inquired, taking a leap of faith and deciding to take a more direct approach. 

"You're too talkative this morning, Mr. Baggins." Thorin growled.

"I know, I'm sorry, but do you... Do you remember, um, what you said to me? Last night?" 

"I don't remember last night. Nothing after my sixth beer. Okay?"

"I just... Okay."

Thorin rubbed his temples before gulping down his water, along with the Ibuprofen. His body seemed slow and tired and sluggish, as if oftentimes did in the morning. Thorin lived for the adventure that night had to offer, the excitement that came with the setting of the sun, when the dark seeped in and the only light was the light of man, the light we make for ourselves. He lived for that, so mornings did not come easily, with its light too bright, too all-consuming. There was no adventure or excitement in morning, not like there was at night. But there was peace in it, and that was what Bilbo basked in, thrived in. He lived for the rise of the morning sun, in its quiet, in its peace, where it felt like there was nothing that anyone could do to hurt you. Mornings, the morning sun... That was what Bilbo loved. But Thorin despised it. Perhaps that was another reason why they weren't compatible. Perhaps it was just another reason why they could never be together. 

"What did I say?" He eventually inquired, gulping down the last of his water. 

"Nothing, it's... It was nothing. Nothing important. I'm not even sure I wasn't dreaming, it was just..."

"Bilbo. Tell me. I'd like to know." 

"I... You... You, uh... You accused me of being gay. At first." 

"Oh... I'm... I'm sorry, I never would've said that if I was in my right mind. I really do know better. I mean, I have friends that are LGBT, and I never, ever would've just blantantly said that like that. I'm sorry. Forgive me."

"I do, I do, but that's not... That's not really the part I was talking about. I mean... Um... You... You also... You kind of said I was in love with you... And..."

"God, I'm sorry, Bilbo."

"I know you are. It's okay, it's really not that big of a deal... But... You... You... Um... You said something else. Like, right before I walked out of the room. I'm not even sure if you meant for me to hear you. And I might've imagined it. And you probably didn't mean it anyways, but there's that saying still... Like, drunk words, sober thoughts, or whatever. And I don't know... I could be insane. But... Uh... You told me that you... That you love me too."

Thorin didn't say another word. He didn't spout out some apology, didn't say anything. He just sat there and stared for north of two or three minutes, neither of them saying a word. Bilbo waited, trying to decide what he was thinking, but Thorin's face was totally blank, totally expressionless. He just sat there, brooding and solemn, not an ounce of emotion anywhere to be seen. He just sat there for what felt like hours, what could've been years, staring back at him. Bilbo couldn't even begin to try and decipher what was happening inside of his brain. Was he angry? Was he devastated? Was he falling apart at the seams, just like Bilbo had when those words had tumbled drunkenly from his lips? What was happening inside this man's head?

Instead of replying, he just stood up and walked out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had been compiling a list of all the reasons why he could and should hate Thorin Oakenshield since he first realized how crazy he was about that man. They had moved in together freshman year, having found each other through a mutual friend. Or, rather, a man that Thorin was friends with that Bilbo had vaguely heard about, barely knew. It had been a whirlwind, far too fast to move in with someone, but it happened. They ended up staying together, and while Thorin and his company drove him absolutely mad sometimes, Bilbo had noticed himself falling a little more each day. Something appreciative about those blue eyes and the swagger in his walk, the way that he walked like he owned the world and had it on a string around his finger. Something beautiful about him.

So Bilbo made a list. Things that made him a horrible roommate, a horrible friend, a horrible boyfriend. He'd been working on this list for the past two years, ever since he first started to fall for him. It wasn't a physical list, but a mental checklist. So far, he had 23 reasons that he recited back to himself every since time that he thought about Thorin, and the way that he moved, and the way that he talked, and the way that he made Bilbo feel like he was walking on air.

And as he walked out of the house, about half an hour after Thorin had stormed out, leaving Bilbo alone to sob for 22 minutes before composing himself enough to stand up and leave, he started reciting this list again. And again. And again.

_1\. He's a pain in the arse to clean up after._

_2\. He's straight._

_3\. I heard him call someone a "faggot" at a party once._

_4\. He can't commit._

_5\. We're incompatible on so many levels that it's not funny. I can't believe we're even sort of friends._

_6\. He sheds. Like a dog._

_7\. Remember how he basically crushed you when you bunked together? Can you take that every night Baggins?_

_8\. He probably has a huge dick and while that sounds nice it'd probably kill my ass._

_9\. Besides, I don't like bottoming that much. And he would never let me top. He's a foot taller than you and a hundred pounds bigger. You think he'd let you shove you're tiny cock in his ass?_

_10\. He makes fun of your feet all the time. Imagine what he'd do to your dick._

_11\. Jesus, okay, enough about sex._

_12\. He's fucking straight. I can't have him anyways._

_13\. He has one night stands all the time. And he's gonna settle down with one little twink like yourself? Yeah right._

_14\. He has issues with hygiene._

_15\. And there's a chance he will suffocate you when you hug him._

_16\. He doesn't like you._

_17\. Can you take looking at tits every time you sleep in his room?_

_18\. He gets drunk all the time. I don't like that. No one likes that._

_19\. His buddies will make fun of you two all the time._

_20\. His buddies are annoying as fuck, and he's no better._

_21\. He'd make you go to football games. You hate that shit._

_22\. He'd probably make you watch games with him on TV too._

_23\. He'd take you on crazy adventures and stuff, and that'd be an inconvenience to say the least._

And then there was that other list. That old pesky thing that he couldn't seem to get rid of or throw away or burn. Damned thing. It was the list of all the good things, all the things that he was desperate for. It was a list of everything that made him fall in love in the first place. That list was, well, a bit longer than the other one. A tad bit harder to throw away. It was well over a hundred bullet points long and almost impossible to keep track of. It was ever expanding and ever-growing. And it was perhaps the most beautiful thing that he had ever thought of.

_1\. His eyes make you giddy every time you make eye-contact. And you fucking hate eye-contact._

_2\. His lips look really soft and like I could sit there and kiss them all day long._

_3\. He'd probably be into that. Staying in all day. Kissing. Fucking. Cuddling. Whatever._

_4\. He'd probably be a great cuddler too. He'd basically cover you._

_5\. Those hands look like they know how to take something, claim it as their own. I could see myself in them. Holding onto them._

_6\. Maybe we fit together well. Like puzzle pieces._

_7\. He makes awesome French toast._

_8\. He knows how to make my life fun. Without him... It'd be boring._

_9\. Even if he does crush me, it might feel more like a bear hug than suffocation and death._

_10\. If I'm honest, I really don't want him to move out._

_11\. His hair. All of it. It'd feel so wonderful to run my fingers through._

_12\. I'd have an excuse to wear his jersey_

_13\. And watch him during football practice_

_14\. And at games_

_15\. We could save money and water by showering together._

_16\. He probably has a monster dong._

_17\. College will end and I could never see him again. That might kill me._

_18\. He makes me want to step outside my comfort zone. He makes me want to fly. He makes me want to be free._

_19\. I love him._

_20\. I just do._

_21\. I don't need these reasons_

_22\. I just love him._

_23\. And that's enough._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bilbo stepped into their home, fully prepared to find a note from Thorin saying that he'd be there in a few days to get his things, that he was leaving, that he couldn't live with the little faggot that loved him. He fully expected to be able to add another reason to his list of why he could so easily despise this man. He fully expected him to be up and gone, never to see him again. It made his chest ache, knowing that their last words could've been that morning. He fully expected to come home and realize that he had made a mistake saying anything at all, and now he was never going to see him again. He was never going to see those blue eyes again. He was never going to hear his voice calling his name again. He was never going to see Thorin Oakenshield ever again, all because he decided that it was a good idea to bring up something stupid again, something that really didn't need to be said. 

But what he expected was not in the least what he received.

The lights were low. Candles everywhere. The room smelled like... French toast. And for a second, a pang of jealousy rattled in his chest, as it usually did. This had to be for some girl. But why would Thorin bring home a girl when all of this was happening? To prove a point? That he was straight? There wasn't any way that this was for him. Thorin was pissed, mostly at him. There was no way. This was just a way to hurt him, a way to show that he was definitely straight and definitely not in love with Bilbo Baggins. His hands started to tremble as he stepped further into the house, preparing for the worst.

"Bilbo." A low voice called as he turned the corner to find Thorin.

He stood in that white shirt, the one that he always kept buttoned down too far, revealing that chest that Bilbo almost always had the urge to touch, to run his fingers through... His long hair was left down tonight, almost like he was purposely tempting Bilbo, almost mocking to see how far he could push before Bilbo broke. He tore his eyes away, unwilling to let him have that satisfaction. This was just a thinly-veiled ploy that would be used to hurt him. He knew it. There was no way that someone could just storm out like that and then do this without having some sort of agenda. 

"Hey." Bilbo replied, looking around, not daring to look directly at him.

"I'm sorry for the way that I acted this morning. It was stupid and immature of me. I was... In shock. Angry with myself for allowing those words to spill from my mouth so loosely. Forgive me."

"It's okay. I understand." 

The bigger man stepped around the counter, coming closer. Bilbo's instinct was the back away, feeling threatened though he knew that he had no real reason to feel that way. He took in a deep breath, looking down, refusing to look him in the eyes until one of his big, meaty, hairy, wonderful hands wrapped around Bilbo's smaller one. His heart began to pound, but in a different way now. Instead of feeling like the thrum of drums being pounded to sound his execution, it now felt like he had butterflies in his chest, his heart fluttering as he stood there. Thorin's other hand found its way under Bilbo's chin, nudging him until they were making hard eye-contact, eye-contact that had always felt natural. He watched him over, studying every inch of him, as his tongue rolled over her lips and his eyes twinkled in the dim glow of the candlelight. He was so beautiful. So painfully beautiful that it made him almost desperate... 

"This is how I wanted it to be when I told you. I didn't know how I would go about doing it. But I know I didn't want to tell you when I was drunk and wasted. I was always afraid of that happening. But... It happened. And I'm sorry." Thorin whispered, coming so close that Bilbo could feel his breath on his face. 

"Huh?" Was all that Bilbo could get out. 

"I have been thinking about this moment for the past year. How should I tell him, should I tell him at all, would it make things terrible... I planned to tell you the day that I moved out. I just.... I didn't know how any other way. I... I have never felt this way about anyone before. I've never been so... So... I don't know. I don't know how to explain it, Mr. Baggins. But I've known for the past year how I feel about you. I didn't mean to let it out when I was drunk. Honestly, I hoped to do it something like this. Candlelight, dinner... Not drunk at two in the morning. I know I don't act like it, but I... I'm sorry, Bilbo."

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me perhaps be a bit more romantic this time."

His hands, those big hands, hands that looked like they could move mountains, wrapped around the sides of Bilbo's neck, pushing his hair back and holding him close - not so tight that he couldn't escape, but he felt no need to run or hide or flee. Bilbo stared up at him for a long moment, gulping down hard, wondering if maybe this was all some sick continuation of his dream that he couldn't distinguish from reality. He felt his heart slamming in his chest, still waiting for this to all end, waiting for his friends to pop our and tell him that this was all some cruel prank. But it didn't happen. Before he had time to really react, to really understand what was happening, to really understand that this wasn't some cruel prank, Thorin's lips were against his. 

It was better than his dreams. There was no cold death. It was just the heat of passion, just the warmth of their bodies pressed against one another, just... It was everything that Bilbo had ever wanted, ever longed for, ever thought and dreamed and fantasized about. In that moment, the heat of his breath and the warmth of his body enveloping Bilbo so that he could hardly tell where he ended and Thorin began, he tore the list of reasons why he could've hated him in half. He threw that list of reason, the list that had been keeping him anchored to shore, keeping him from floating out to sea and falling head-over-heels, out the window. It was gone. All that was left was the ever-expanding list of all the reasons why Bilbo Baggins as madly, stupidly in love with Thorin Oakenshield. 

"I love you." Thorin whispered. 

Bilbo didn't say anything in reply. Unable to contain himself any longer, he pressed his lips up against Thorin's again, pulling closer this time. He pushed himself up against Thorin, his erection now made evident as it rubbed up against Thorin's leg, the slight stimulation making him harder. He could feel Thorin follow suit, the bulge beneath his jeans pressed against Bilbo's hipbone, quickly growing harder and longer. All of this, all of the passion and all of the heat and all of _this_ made everything worth it. All of the pain and all of the dreams and all of the waking up in the middle of the night just to make sure that Thorin was still there and still alive and still breathing... It was all worth it right then. Right at that moment, everything, every moment... It was all worth it. Thorin Oakenshield was worth it.

"I love you too." Bilbo whispered, finally pulling away.

"I don't know how long I've been waiting to say that." Thorin breathed.

"I know."

"I don't know why I love you, but god I do."

"I know you do."

His meaty hands ruffled through Bilbo's blonde curls before he roughly kissed him again, pulling him so close that it felt like they were one person. It wasn't like being connected on some ultra-spiritual level, or becoming two halves of the same soul. It didn't feel anything like it felt like in the movies or in the books. This felt... Real. It wasn't like they were soul-mates, but rather like they were just two boys who were crazy about each other, two boys who somehow fit together. They didn't fit together like puzzle pieces or anything, not like they were made for each other. But it felt more like the way it looks when you arrange a bookshelf and you get your books to fit in just a way that it finally looks perfect. It takes work and time to get it all to fit together the way that it did, but when you're finally finished, it's like everything was meant to be there. It seemed... Perfect. This was that moment. The moment when you're done arranging it. You're going to rearrange some things maybe, maybe take out a book from time to time... But right then, after two years of these thoughts and all of the trying and suppressing and everything that had happened... With their lips pressed together... This was the moment when everything was perfect.

Their movements complimented each other, like they knew without words how to do whatever it was that they were doing. Thorin's hips moved slightly, like he was trying to thrust, trying to get some gratification, which subsequently caused his body to shift in a way that it stimulated Bilbo, making him almost painfully hard, begging for more touch, begging for him... He let out a small moan into Thorin's mouth as they kissed, suddenly propped against the counter, Bilbo not even sure how they had gotten there. Thorin had him pinned back, almost possessive in his movements, like he would never let go of this moment. And Bilbo sure as hell had no intent on stopping it. 

"I want you. All of you." Thorin growled, pulling away slightly, just enough so that he could mouth those words. 

"Then take me. I'm yours." 

"Are you sure?"

Bilbo pulled away for a moment, taking a step back. They were still relatively close, but they were a bit further apart. Thorin's hand was still wrapped around Bilbo's smaller on, practically enveloping it as he stood there, staring him over. They stood there for a long moment... He inhaled slowly, trying to collect his thoughts. How had this happened? He looked around the apartment, all the candles and everything feeling like it was some sort of fairy tale. It seemed almost impossible, like this was just another one of his crazy dreams, one that he'd wake up from and end up crying or feeling that weird feeling of wrongness in his chest again... This couldn't be real, could it? But he could feel it. He could feel all of his. Thorin's warm hands. He could feel Thorin's lips and tongue and teeth when they had kissed. He knew that this was real. There was no way that it wasn't. 

"Thorin... I've been waiting for this moment for years. I didn't think that I would ever see this day. I thought that I'd be lost in fantasy and have nothing real. I thought I would be spending my life thinking about you, about kissing you, about touching you, about making love to you. I want you. All of you. I thought I would be dreaming about you. Somehow finding your face in my fantasies whenever I was jerking off. It seemed so stupid and so ridiculous and so _painful_. It hurt like hell, being in love with you. Thinking I'd never have you. So I'm. Yours. Take me. Please." Bilbo plead, almost begging to be touched by this man. Begging to have him. 

"You're sure?"

"I have never been so sure of anything in my life."

Letting out a small growl of possessiveness as he pulled Bilbo in for another kiss, he wrapped his arms beneath his knees, hoisting him up into the air, pulling him close, their lips never parting once as Thorin carried Bilbo practically bridal-style across the house, into Bilbo's room, the closest room to where they were standing right then. It seemed overly dramatic, but Thorin always did have a flare for that sort of thing. Their lips didn't part until Thorin practically threw Bilbo on the bed, leaving him a bit startled but mostly pleased. His eyes, bewildered and raging with excitement, stared up at the man in front of him as he practically tore off his shirt, his fingers barely working fast enough to get his shirt off. 

It wasn't until that moment that the doubt started to intrude. Where was this going to go? Where was this going to take them? Were they going to ride off into the sunset together and live happily ever after, or was this a one time thing? What if these fantasies were nothing more than that, and they weren't sexually compatible? What if neither of them were able to take it and they didn't even come, or what if it was just painfully awkward? What if Bilbo, who had to be considerably smaller than Thorin, wasn't enough. For fuck's sake, Bilbo barely surpassed 5 inches, and if his cock was in comparison to any other part of his body, Thorin's had to be at least 8 or 9. But as he turned his focus back toward the man in front of him, the man that he was so crazy about... It didn't matter.

He really was a sight to behold. He was tall, towering over him like a beast, feral and wild, ready to devour its prey, like it had been starving for the past year. He wasn't quite as hairy as Bilbo had thought, his chest being lined with a thin coat but not much beyond that. His hair already seemed messier than what it should, and Bilbo could already picture himself running his hands through it... It would be nice... Bilbo could see his erection through his jeans, the tent in his pants obvious, making it very clear what was about to happen. And instead of being nervous, like he usually was when it came to anything new and exciting, Bilbo embraced it. He had been dreaming about this moment for years. He was finally going to be able to have him - all of him.

Bilbo followed his lead and tore off his own t-shirt as Thorin unbuttoned his jeans, tossing them across the room, throwing his boxers along with them, leaving him exposed. Instead of looking vulnerable naked, he looked majestic, confident, like a lion that had finally been freed of its cage. His cock was just as long as he had expected it to be, thick and long and hard and red, throbbing with anticipation, like the past two years had been leading up to this very moment right here, and like nothing else in the world could possibly matter as much as this moment here did. Bilbo suddenly felt horribly inadequate, staring at the beauty in front of him, feeling like he was standing in front of a god rather than a man, the man that he was undoubtedly in love with now. There was no turning back though. He didn't want to turn back now 

He was unbelievably well-endowed. Bilbo was growing painfully hard just looking at him, his form... Beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Perhaps there were insecurities running around his head, perhaps he was afraid that he wasn't enough, but all of that seemed like static, like background noise, compared to this man. It wasn't even necessarily sexual as he stared at the form in front of him. The naked male form, the way that he looked just standing there, just being himself, just, just, just being. Thorin Oakenshield was beautiful. He was absolutely beautiful. 

"Is this okay?" Thorin inquired quietly, like the feral beast had been tamed for just a moment, making sure that it was okay to do this. 

All that Bilbo could do was nod in response.

Thorin let a smile cross over his lips, a smile that seemed similar to that of Lucifer's, the smile that he perhaps gave just before his fall from grace. Self-satisfied. Strong. Confident. Ready. Like there was nothing that could stop him from getting what he wanted now. And Bilbo sure as hell wasn't going to stand in his way. Oh no, he was a willing vessel, a willing participant, ready for whatever would happen. He didn't care if he was throwing caution to the wind for once in his life, because for the first time, it seemed absolutely worth it.

Thorin crawled over top of him, enveloping him in his shadow. Bilbo's fingers tentatively reached up and found Thorin's chest, running down his muscular body, unable to hold it back any longer. He had been waiting to touch this man, have every inch of him to do as he pleased with, for years. It had been years. And here he was, ready and willing, both of them wanting this, both of them knowing that perhaps this was how it was always meant to be. How they were always meant to be. He couldn't hold it in any longer. His fingers traced over him, gentle, hardly touching, almost afraid to, like maybe if he touched too hard then he would disappear, and he'd wake up and realize that all of this was a dream. But he didn't disappear. He didn't vanish beneath his touch. He just stayed there, staring at him, hungry like a lion, like a wild beast that could not be tamed. His breathing grew harder and faster and more labored, and Bilbo supposed that he couldn't savor this moment any longer. There was no more waiting. There was no more hesitation. He had to just let go for once in his life. He had to stop waiting for it. He had to take this man for himself.

Thorin propped himself up on his knees and undid Bilbo's pants for himself, no longer willing to wait for it, like he physically couldn't wait for it any longer, like if he waited any more then he might lose control of himself. Bilbo allowed him to slide the jeans off of his legs, though he immediately felt hesitance and shame rise in him. He hardly compared to the man in front of him. But as the jeans and the boxers slid off of his body and Thorin took him all in for the first time, eyes studying him over like he was a masterpiece, Bilbo immediately felt... Powerful. Almost like a god. Thorin's hands were a bit shaky as he caressed him, fingers tracing the outline of his body, from the slight curve of his waist to his hips and down his thighs, almost like he was afraid to touch, like he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to do this. 

It had gone so fast. They had gone from nothing but friends to this in the course of a single day. But as they lay there, Thorin over him, almost like he was afraid to touch, almost like he couldn't believe that this was actually happening, all of this happening so quickly.... They slowed down. Thorin pulled himself closer, towering over him monstrously. He was far bigger than Bilbo, towering far over him, causing his heart to slam violently in his chest. Thorin's hands were on either side of his head, lining himself up against Bilbo.

Thorin's lips found Bilbo's, swooping low to steal a kiss. Both of them naked and kissing on the bed, just like Bilbo had fantasized about for year. It was just what he had thought about, just what he had imagined. It was like all of those suppressed fantasies and thoughts were at last coming to life, everything that he had held in for the past 2 years of his life finally coming to life, unraveling just in front of him. All of the nerves and insecurities melted away in his kiss, in his embrace. God, it really was something beautiful. He didn't think that something like this would ever happen. Bilbo had just assumed that he was going to die a virgin, never really thought that he'd ever find someone. But in that moment, he knew that he wasn't going to die alone. He found the man that he was going to spend the rest of his life with. 

Bilbo let one arm slink around Thorin's neck, using the free one to run through his hair. This is all that he could ever want, all that he could ever ask for. He could feel Thorin's cock brush up against his own, both of them painfully hard and aching for release, a release that only the other could give them now. One hand remained at the side of Bilbo's head to steady himself, but Thorin's other hand found its way to Bilbo's chest. They were softer than Bilbo had imagined them. He always thought that they'd be rough and calloused, but they weren't. They were soft and warm and inviting, if demanding and powerful. They played against Bilbo's nipples, hard with his arousal. He thumbed at the sensitive skin, fingers playing against them, twisting them, not being overly rough but still having enough force to cause Bilbo to let out a moan against his mouth. 

This. This was where they were always meant to be. This was that final book being placed on the shelf to create a beautiful display, fitting together just so perfectly... This was that moment. This was the moment where they finally fell perfectly in place. This was just kissing. Neither of them had even started touching each other yet, though with Bilbo's cock leaking freely over his belly, and he could feel the slick of Thorin's own cock brush against his. He needed more, needed more, needed more. He couldn't take not having him any longer. He loved this moment, just kissing and clinging to each other, but he needed more. More out of instinct and bodily function than actually wanting to, he bucked his hips, trying to get some friction going. Thorin didn't move much at first, but eventually, his body found a complimentary rhythm, their cocks making contact, harder then softer, faster then slower... But it wasn't enough. It was only enough to make his aching, his hunger, his thirst, his need for Thorin, greater. 

"You climb over me. I don't want to crush you when I come." Thorin chuckled as he rolled over onto his back, swollen cock dropping against his belly. 

"You sure?" Bilbo inquired, assuming that Thorin would want to be sitting over top of him, where he was easily controlled, easily in his grasp. 

"Yes. Yes. Please." Thorin breathed, voice coming out more desperate this time, like he needed the contact, the stimulation, again. 

Bilbo nodded, climbing over Thorin, trying his best to find the best position for them to do this. He eventually positioned himself between his legs, undersides of their cocks pressed against each other. He tried to position his hands similarly to where Thorin's had been moments before, on either side of his head, but he couldn't reach without just hardly hovering over Thorin's neck, being a little bit too short to do that. So instead, Thorin's hands guided Bilbo's to his shoulders, letting him prop himself up against him, effectively pinning him down at the same time. It wasn't quite perfect, and they didn't exactly fit like puzzle pieces, but it was enough. Maybe it would be easier in some other position, but this was a first time. They were virgins, both of them, at least with men, and they didn't exactly know how this whole thing was going to work... But there was only one way to find out.

Bilbo's eyes glanced down, somewhat inadvertently, not really meaning to look down exactly, but he was glad when he did. It was quite possibly the most obscene thing that he had ever laid eyes on, two hard, rough cocks begging for more contact... Bilbo wasn't exactly overly sexual. Never had been. He had never cared much about sex. Never been one for excessive amounts of it. Of course not. He was a virgin. But he'd never cared that much. Sure, he masturbated. He did quite frequently. At least a few days out of the week. But it wasn't so much a sexual need as it was just a physical one. He wasn't that interested in sex, and more interested in the person he might have it with. And right then, their cocks pressed together... He understood why people got so excited over the topic. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't quite sure what. So instead, he just stared down, more excited by the sight of it than the actual sensation.

Thorin's hips bucked suddenly, sending waves of electricity and sensation through Bilbo at the sudden friction. His eyes went wide, fingernails digging tightly into his shoulders, those toned shoulders. He supposed that he dug a little too hard, the sudden shock being a little too much. He'd masturbated, felt sensation like this before. He'd had orgasms before, he'd done all of this before. But never with someone else, and absolutely never with someone that he loved as much as Thorin. God, just thinking that was strange. But with the sudden jerk of the hips and Bilbo digging into his skin in surprise, Thorin let out a small cry of pain. Bilbo cursed and sputtered out an apology as he moved his hands to his chest, away from the place that now held the indentions of his fingernails, four pink crescents on each side, and two red ones, places where his thumb had dug hard enough to break skin. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just..." Bilbo stuttered.

"It's okay, Mr. Baggins." Thorin laughed, throaty and thick and warm and familiar. 

Bilbo felt himself begin to blush hard, his face turning a bright shade of red. Thorin's hand reached up, palm brushing against the side of Bilbo's face. He nuzzled up to the touch, soft and warm and inviting, the kindness and love in his touch enough to wipe away a bit of the embarrassment that had built up in his cheeks as he blushed furiously. He exhaled slowly, rocking forward slightly, swaying where he sat, which only caused both of them to want more. Need more. 

"I'm just a little bit... Uh... I guess I'm... I don't know, kind of nervous, I guess. I... I don't really know what I'm doing. I'm a virgin." Bilbo confessed.

"As am I, when it comes to men. I've been with women I didn't care about, but never a man I love. It's okay. I understand. I don't have any idea what I'm doing. We just figure it out as we go, I suppose. " 

"So... Um... I guess..."

"I'm going to try something, alright?" 

Bilbo nodded slightly, feeling his nerves rise up in him again. This was all so new. Having someone else touch him like this. being fully exposed to someone... It was all so new and wild and just a bit scary, but also... More than that. Better. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach, but he couldn't say that he didn't like the feeling. It was a nice feeling, really. The aching in his chest, the fluttering in his stomach, the fire in his loins. He watched as Thorin's hands wrapped around both of their cocks, the touch sending chills through him, making him instinctively want to thrust, to get more of the stimulation, more of his touch, but he refrained as both hands worked around their cocks, hands a bit shaky, a bit fidgety, like he didn't quite know where to put them, what to do with them.

It only took him a minute or so to find a rhythm, pulling and pushing. It didn't feel too different than what he felt when he masturbated, alone in his room, but it felt... Enhanced. Thorin's hands, along with the touch, and the added sensation of another cock rubbing against his... It felt better than when he was alone. It felt a million times better. He felt his body tremble beneath Thorin's touch as the bigger man started to thrust slightly, only a bit. Bilbo, unable to keep it in, let out a long, low groan of satisfaction before finding a complimentary rhythm. Long thrusts were unneeded. Just the two of them, making short, small movements, their bodies moving together in such a way... Bilbo let out a moan as the sweat began to bead at his hairline. 

It hardly took any time at all for Bilbo to become close, and it wasn't until that moment that he started to wish that maybe he hadn't just tried to finish as quickly as he could. When he masturbated, he always went quickly, fearing that one of Thorin's crew might stumble into the house and come into his room, looking for Thorin. It had happened before. But now he wished that he had learned to take his time, to try and stretch out those sessions so that he could last longer now. He didn't want this to ever end. He wanted to stay just like this, the pleasure unbearable and everything overwhelming him in the sweetest possible way. He found himself thrusting harder and faster, Thorin's own thrusts following, falling into time with his. The feeling of his cock below his, the now-steady pumping of his hands, the delicious thrust of his hips... All of it combined, it nearly overwhelmed him, bringing him so close, so so close...

"I'm... I'm gonna come." Bilbo panted as he rocked.

"Me... Me too." Thorin stuttered, his strokes becoming more frantic. 

Bilbo let out a groan so obscene that he wondered if he had ever made a noise like that. Feral, wild, beastly. He tried his best to suppress his urge to come, wanting to keep this up, but with Thorin's thrusts and strokes becoming messier and more frantic, faster and harder... Thorin's small grunts and groans being pulled from his lips... The obscene sound of skin on skin... He couldn't take it. He felt everything swelling inside of him, every sensation heightened. It felt something like a dam that was just on the verge of bursting, the river behind it flowing freely through him... He was so close, so painfully close. 

"Come for me." Thorin growled.

And that was all that it took to send him spiraling over the edge. He felt the dam within him break, burst open as raw ecstasy ran through his veins, feeling like liquid gold or pixie dust, some shit that came straight out of his dream. The corners of his eyes whiting out just before he closed them and let out a moan so loud that it was all that he could hear, the other noises, the small grunts coming from Thorin, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, it all turned the static. Background noise. It was a moment so full of raw ecstasy and deep sensation that he almost couldn't take it. The contractions of his muscles, his ejaculation spitting up across Thorin's chest, the heat of the body of the man beneath him... It was so perfect that he didn't want the moment to ever end. 

It couldn't have been more than two seconds after Bilbo started to cum that Thorin followed suit, his groans and moans louder than Bilbo's, more feral, more throaty. He sounded more like a wild beast than a human, and that was perfectly alright. His grunts, his groans, the way that he hardly sounded human... It fit him. What he hardly expected with the small whine that was stripped from his throat as he finished, the last of his cum spurting out onto his chest. It was the whine of someone who was thinking the exact same thing as he was... He didn't want this to end. He wanted to stay like this, under the covers, blood pumping, sweat pouring, bodies shaking. They both wanted the grunts and cries and moans and groans of passion to never cease, it sounding like music to their ears. They wanted this to be their lives. No longer pushing each other away, no longer trying to force back feelings... Just the two of them, in bed, horny as all hell, and unable to control themselves any longer. Feral and wild, beastly and untamed, finally free to do as they wanted. To fulfill these desires. But the bodies of mortal men were unable to continue this any longer, and the whine that was ripped from Thorin's throat was one of unwillingness to let go. Unwillingness to let this be it. 

It ebbed Bilbo on for a few more seconds before it all ended. This magical, fairy-tale night. Over in a matter of seconds as his cock quickly began to soften and he felt himself collapse over top of Thorin, sticky from sweat and cum and whatever else. Normally, Bilbo would've been repulsed at the idea of being so filthy, but he didn't want to move. He didn't want to risk letting this beast of a man go, didn't want to risk him for the sake of cleanliness. He just wanted to lay there with him, listening to the slowing of their breathing. Thorin's fingers ran through Bilbo's hair, the smell and feeling of semen still on his hands. They smelled like sex and sweat, something that he had never smelled on another person before. They sat in silence, no need for words.

"I have been with 50 different girls. At least. I've fucked so many girls that I've lost count. But I do not think that I have ever had a better experience in my life, Mr. Baggins." Thorin whispered, pressing his lips against his head. 

"It ended in you bleeding." Bilbo said lamely, tracing the line of where his thumb had dug into his skin.

"I don't care. I've seen worse." He whispered.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Is this real? Like... Us? This isn't a one night thing?"

"If you will have me, Mr. Baggins, I'd rather this be much, much more than a one-night stand. Because I think that this, you and I, could be something beautiful. And I'm not ready to give you up just yet."

"What do you see for us, then?"

"Well, I'm not a psychic. I can't see the future. I'm not a fortune teller. But if I have it my way, perhaps I'll be growing old with you. Perhaps this is premature to be saying... But I've spent the past two years of my life next to you. Longing for you. Pining over you. And I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life making up for lost time.

**Author's Note:**

> I liked writing this a lot more than I thought I would. Should I make it into a full fic?


End file.
